


Dicked Down by the Four Armed Menace

by Red_Shepherds



Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Choking, Enemies to Lovers, Light BDSM, M/M, Mindfuck, References to Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008), Robot Sex, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23034106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Shepherds/pseuds/Red_Shepherds
Summary: I get dicked down by Grievous, what more do you want?
Relationships: General Grievous| Qymaen Jai Sheelal/me bitch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Dicked Down by the Four Armed Menace

"I can heal you," I toss over my shoulder, and then "I wouldn't mind healing you. Your lungs--" 

"Do not think to touch me, Jedi." The general couldn't sneer, not with the mask, but I could picture the expression perfectly well. I flinched; that sentence had been a hell of a slap in the face. 

"I'm not a Jedi. I failed their training." 

"What are you, then?" he sounded idly curious, golden eyes narrowing. 

"I am...my own. I don't walk anyone's path, anymore." 

"Do you think healing me is a part of your path?" 

"It could be, if you'd let me." 

"Then do so." he managed to sound disinterested, leaning back in his seat, breath wheezing slightly. I approached, cautious, still painfully aware that if he changed his mind, he could kill me in seconds. 

He didn't. 

I laid my hand on the cold metal of his chest plate and closed my eyes, reaching out with the Force. His whole body was laid out before me--a collection of organs only, foreign to me and yet easy enough to understand. 

He was so damaged, after having his metal casing crushed. One of his lungs was nearly nonfunctional, even after the repairs to the shell, and one side of his brain was concussed, badly. I reached as far in as I could, with the Force, stimulating his natural healing processes. 

I was shaken from my healing trance by the sensation of cold metal on my face--idly, the general traced the scar he'd given me with a single metal finger. I didn't flinch away, and I didn't open my eyes, letting him sate his curiosity as I finished my healing. 

"You are a strange one, healer." 

"I have a name." 

"As do I. Qymaen Jai Sheelal." 

"Tann. Just Tann." 

The general shifted in his seat, and I fought not to tense, fully and suddenly aware of my mortality. Nothing came of it--he didn't try to hurt me. 

"Mm. You heal me, even though I nearly killed you, before. Why?" 

"Your wheezing annoyed me," I lied, knowing full well that I wasn't convincing either of us. 

"Brave words, for prey." 

"You say that, but I could shut your organs down right now. Easily. Stop your heart in half a second." 

"You won't. You fear me, yet you heal me. You could have sent the other healer here, and yet you stay. You are strange." 

"You keep saying that. Is it really so strange to want to help people?" my heart was hammering in my chest, and I counted myself lucky that he couldn't tell. I realized, belatedly, that my hand was still on his chest, that I was still fully sensing the movements of his heart. 

"You...you are attracted to me, aren't you, healer? You do not need to speak," he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice, "it is obvious enough." 

"And what do you want me to do about it, Qymaen?" 

He grabbed the pendant I wore firmly, pulling me forward, inexorably closer to him. I found myself arching my back, something about the contact setting my heart to beating even faster. My face was within inches of his mask, my hot breath beginning to fog the metal. 

"Count yourself lucky, first off. Few have experienced what you are about to. Secondly…turn. Sit." 

I obeyed, not even thinking about it, and found myself straddling one of his firm durasteel thighs. It pressed between my legs nicely, and I felt arousal begin to cloud my head. 

"Good boy," Qymaen chuckled, slowly wrapping one hand around my throat--not pressing, simply reminding me that he was in control, here. His other hand went between my thighs, one long, sharp claw tracing the curve of my hip bones. 

I tried to reach up, in order to get some sort of leverage, but the general growled. I felt some movement behind me, and suddenly, there was a hand around each of my wrists. He pulled them behind me, firmly, and I whined as I realized I was completely at his mercy. 

Qymaen let out a sinister little laugh at that, stilling the hand between my thighs. I rolled my hips against his wandering fingers, all too aware of how sharp and deadly they were. My mind was far too clouded--by lust, by how very long I'd been waiting for this moment--but the danger cut through the fog, a welcome contrast. 

"You're being a tease," I growled out, almost genuinely angry, "I have a strap around here somewhere, y'know."

"Mm," he released my hands and neck, "get it and return." 

I did so without hesitating, and he began affixing it while gesturing for me to strip. It was intimidating, but excitement thrummed inside of me, and I obeyed as quickly as I could. I was more confused than not when Qymaen pushed me to my knees, but everything became very clear when he lined the strap up with my mouth. 

"Suck," he ordered me, in a voice that brooked no argument. I leaned forward slowly, running my tongue along the underside of the rubber cock, from base to tip. I gripped his thighs, and had a sudden idea. I could use the Force, stimulate his brain to release the right chemicals...this could be good for him too. 

It was difficult to concentrate on both processes at once, but I knew I was managing it fine when I heard him groan loudly. He gripped the back of my head, forcing me all the way down. I ramped up the chemicals as best I could, felt the cascade of neurotransmitters begin in his brain. 

He let me go, and I looked up at him, fully aware that I was a mess. I was panting, I realized, and I pressed my face against his cold durasteel thigh, giving myself time to calm down. 

"Good boy," Qymaen growled out, slowly, "you've earned a reward. Get on the bed."

I did, and he moved me to where I was straddling his 'hips', the cock pressed against my entrance. He lowered me slowly, two hands firm on my hips. A third found my neck once more, and he moved his hand to slip a finger into my mouth. I moaned around it, pleasantly overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of all of this. He bucked his hips, thrusting into me slowly, and I let my head tilt back limply, panting. 

"Mm. Such a good boy." 

Everything narrowed to just him and me, the cold steel of his metal frame pressed against me, his fingers and cock inside of me, his low growling filling my ears. Time seemed to blur, and I came before I had any idea I was going to, suddenly and intensely. I tensed and then fully relaxed, my whole weight being supported by Qymaen's strong, sharp hands. I realized, distantly, that he'd left long welts across my hips. Good. 

I felt myself drifting to sleep, and I felt Grievous lay me on the bed slowly, heard his clanking footsteps grow distant. He wasn't a cuddler. Damn.


End file.
